


invisible string

by thepromise



Category: The Aurora Cycle - Amie Kaufman & Jay Kristoff
Genre: Alternate Universe, Coming of Age, Eventual mutual love, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Kal and Auri, The Pull, Two POVs, also some minor original characters, just like canon, not enemies to lovers but like...bickering acquaintances to lovers, soulmate bond but done well bc kal's a respectful boy who cares about what auri wants
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:02:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26653375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepromise/pseuds/thepromise
Summary: Kal Gilwraeth wants nothing more than to get through his days at Aurora Academy without attracting any attention to himself. But his plans begin to fall through when he realizes his roommate, Finian, won’t give up on him so easily.And they shatter completely when he meets Aurora O’Malley.Basically, if you took (most of) the bad and scary stuff out of The Aurora Cycle and made it a coming-of-age story about the squad at the Academy. Complete with witty banter, tension-filled combat training, trips to shore leave, the Genesis Day Ball, and a whole lot of teen angst.
Relationships: Catherine Brannock/Tyler Jones, Kaliis Gilwraeth/Aurora Jie-Lin O'Malley, Scarlett Jones/Finian de Karran de Seel
Comments: 16
Kudos: 41





	1. bury my love

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't posted a work on this website in over a year so this feels very weird but ALAS here we are! sorry if my writing's a little dusty.
> 
> the aurora cycle has Quite Literally taken up a chunk of my brain since aurora burning dropped, so y'all know i had to start an au centered around my sweet space lovebirds, kal and auri. i've had a lot of fun mapping this story out and i'm pumped for people to read. also, this fic will have mature language and themes that's similar to the content in the books, so keep that in mind.
> 
> without further ado, enjoy the first chapter!

**Kal**

I do not know why these two continue to follow me, to stick by me, no matter how hard I try to push them away.

By “these two” I mean the tall Betraskan boy, Finian De Seel, and his shorter Terran counterpart, Zila Madran.

I was aware, while enrolling in Aurora Academy, that there would be roommates. There was not much I could do about the fact, as much as I favor solitude, and Spirits of the Void know I have sacrificed too much to be here to throw it all away on something so trivial as sharing a dorm with another Legionnaire.

_Lost too much…_

I was not aware, however, that my fate was going to be sealed with a raucous boy who was made up of equal amounts sarcastic and flirtatious. A boy that _insisted_ on our friendship.

“Hey, Pixieboy! Wait up!” I hear him call out behind me as I stalk through the large, open hallways of the Academy to my last class of the day, loud and bustling with hundreds of other Legionnaires. I sigh inwardly but try not to make show of my dismay. Suddenly he is walking beside me, his exosuit softly whining with his movements, messy white hair falling in front of his forehead and poking up in every direction. 

“Finian,” I mutter simply, offering him a glance so as to not appear too cold. Though his big eyes are completely black, I can see amusement sparking in them, as always. _I do not understand how one can be so constantly entertained by the world._ Deep purple trims his uniform, signifying his place as a Gearhead in the Legion. I realize Zila is moving alongside him, her presence infinitely more calm and quiet as she taps away on her uniglass, thick dark hair cascading down to her waist. Her uniform is trimmed with the bright green that all Brains wear.

“Zila,” I add. She looks up at me with her usual blank stare and silently nods, before returning her gaze to the screen in her hands. She does not emote much, I have learned, which surely means something coming from me; but her mind is doubtlessly brilliant. I have never seen anybody, of any sentient species, solve unbelievably complex equations as quick as her.

I look ahead again, silently praying to the Void that the lecture hall in which my class is being held is getting closer. So I have an excuse to say goodbye to them, to put up the shields surrounding me once more. Because though the Enemy Within constantly hisses words like _nuisances_ and _inconveniences_ in my ear whenever they are around, the part of me that staggers toward the light is relieved that they haven’t given up on me yet, that they haven’t left me to the shadows like everybody else in the Academy has. No matter how difficult I am.

And that relief frightens me.

“ _So,_ ” Finian claps his prosthetic hands together. “How’s my roomie doing on this sweet, sweet Monday? You left so early this morning I didn’t even see you.”

“Fine,” I say, my voice suddenly more distant than before as my eyes trail to the group of Terran Tanks passing by us, the blood red trimming their uniforms matching my own. Their leader, Legionnaire Tobias Smith, marches in front with his usual snarl and mop of dark hair. My skin prickles with anger as their gazes land on me, piercing, threatening, almost _daring_ me to do something. It is this exact group who have caused me to get two disciplinary warnings so far, and I have not even spent three weeks at the Academy yet. 

_“Two disciplinary warnings out of three,” the dean of students, Miss Grotta, repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time as I sat in her large, sleek office in a chair that was far too small for me, touching a finger to the purpling bruise under my eye. “One more and you’ll risk expulsion, Legionnaire Gilwraeth.”_

Though they have always been the first ones to throw a punch, and I have only ever defended myself.

Still, when an instructor sees a Terran writhing in pain on the floor and a Syldrathi with the Warbreed sigil tattooed on their forehead hovering above them, they only wish to believe one story. And the Terran always gets away burn-free.

Which is why they now taunt me with their icy stares, knowing well that if I raise my fists one more time, I am out. So I rest my fists by my sides instead, keep my jaw clenched, my eyes forward. 

“Just fine?” Finian says, unimpressed. “Oh, come on. Gimme all the hot gossip, all the…”

His voice trails off when he follows my line of vision, head turning to the group even when they have fully passed by us and I can finally exhale. 

“Oh,” he whispers. “The rat pack.”

My brow involuntarily raises at that. “Rat... pack?”

“Yeah,” he smirks. “Suits them, doesn’t it? Just a bunch of shit-eating rodents.”

I cannot help the way one corner of my mouth quirks up at the comparison. “I suppose,” I say.

“Rats normally like to eat garbage and meat,” Zila corrects Finian, her voice clear as a bell.

“Yeah, so basically shit.” Finian dismisses. Then his face contorts and he shakes his head, as if disgusted by our conversation, and changes the topic.

“Anyway, have you seen the new girl yet?”

“What new girl?” I ask.

We turn a corner.

As if to answer my question, a body plows into my chest at full speed. 

I am not one to lose my balance, trained from a young age to always stay grounded on my feet. But for a foolish second my defenses are lowered, and at the unexpected force I fall backward in a tangle of limbs with the person. My silver braids fly around me as my back meets the hard floor like a clap of lightning, brain rattling in my skull as I see stars for a moment. I hear Finian yelp, his voice far away and hazy in my ringing ears.

My eyes snap open to get a look at the fool who was not paying attention to where they were going.

Instead, I am greeted by a light brighter than all the suns in the galaxy combined.

Her face hovers just a few inches above my own, breathless, and for a moment that feels more like an eon, I study her. The bright light mounted to the tall ceiling above us frames the edges of her short, feathery black hair like a perfect halo; but a strip of mesmerizing white surges through her layered bangs. Constellations of freckles dance across her cheeks in hypnotic patterns. Blush-colored, bow-shaped lips open and close, speechless. But it is when my eyes meet hers that I truly feel the utterly unmistakable pang in my heart.

They are so devastatingly beautiful. 

The left one is a deep brown, almost black, so deep it is hard to make out where the iris ends and pupil begins. I want to drown in its endless abyss, falling for eternity. 

The right one is the complete opposite. Her iris is stripped of any and all color, pure white starkly contrasting against her black pupil, similar to the discoloration in her hair. It is like the rarest stone I have ever seen.

I am feeling the very thing I made myself believe I would never get to feel.

_The Pull._

It is as if nothing in my life has ever truly made sense until now. Like the puzzle of the universe is finally complete, and all it had to do was put the pieces of her and I beside each other.

She is heavenly.

She is celestial.

She is…

_Human._

It is completely unheard of for a Syldrathi to feel this way for any other species outside of our own, let alone a human.

_So, Spirits of the Void, how am I?_

My mind races at light speed as her fingertips brush against my chest, feather-light on top of my uniform but still burning through to my skin. It is only then that I am aware of the rest of her weight on top of me, light and willowy as a lias tree but setting me on fire all the same. 

I realize we are lying in a very compromising position in the middle of the hallway.

She finally speaks, eyes rapidly searching into mine.

“Um… hi.”

Her voice is soft, a melody in my ears, and for a moment it puts me in a trance. But I force myself to snap out of it, blinking hard. My mouth opens in an attempt to say something, yet no words form. All I can do is stare.

Zila steps in and breaks the spell between us, holding a hand out.

“Are you two alright?”

The girl on top of me snaps her head up, and after quickly looking back down to give me an apologetic glance, pushes herself up on her elbows and takes Zila’s hand to stand upright. Finian offers me his hand, but I push myself up on my feet, smoothing down my uniform and ignoring the stares of everyone around us.

“Mothercustard, I am,” the girl begins once the four of us are standing, running a hand through her hair. “ _So_ sorry,”

I muster up enough to tear my eyes away from the floor to meet her gaze again, my heart flaring. She is short, not much taller than Zila, and I see the blood red on her uniform. _She is a Tank, like me._

Before I can speak, words flow from her lips like a river.

“I totally wasn’t watching where I was going, it’s my first day here and I’m trying to find my dorm and people here aren’t the _friendliest_ when you ask for directions and…” her voice fades sheepishly as she wraps her arms around herself. “Yeah. Sorry.”

I stare at her, head tilted down due to our difference in height.

“It is alright.”

She stares back, her eyes unreadable, a small blush dusting her cheeks. But I see her shoulders relax.

“Thanks for understanding,” she says with a grateful smile, one that could make planets stop in their orbit. I ignore the way my chest swells at the sight, keeping my face cool and firm. Her eyes flick to Finian and Zila, back turned to the rest of the hall. “Everyone’s staring, aren’t they?”

“Almost everyone, yes.” Zila says with no remorse, looking behind this enigmatic girl’s shoulder to all of the pairs of eyes on us. I stare back at all of them, the burning violet of my own eyes boring into theirs and making them skitter away.

“They are not anymore,” I mutter.

A beat of silence ensues between us. Finian breaks it, sticking his hand out to her with a crooked, overly confident grin.

“Finian de Seel, Gearhead and professional smartass.”

The girl studies his hand for a moment, black rubber with small white sensors situated on the joints of his fingers to assist their mobility. Her eyes delicately trail along his thin exosuit, which serves the same purpose for the rest of his body. It is not judgemental, nor harsh. Merely curious. And brief, as her slender hand slides into his and she shakes, lips curling into another smile.

“Aurora O’Malley.” she replies.

_Aurora._

_Aurora, Aurora, Aurora._

_Even her name is music._

Finian’s black eyes widen. “Well, shit, looks like this place is named after you.”

She breathes a weak laugh. “If I had a cred for every time someone’s made that joke today…”

“Sorry,” he shakes his head. “Not my best work. We’re first-years, too.” he says, gesturing to the three of us.

“Cool,” she nods. “I would’ve been here on the first day, but I had to stay on Earth for a little longer because I fractured my ankle.”

I tilt my head at that, listening intently. Finian’s brows shoot upward. “Ouch. How?”

She simply shrugs, as if it is a normal occurrence for her. “Just a small running accident.”

I stay silent, but my curious thoughts take off. _She is athletically inclined, presumably why she chose to be a Tank._ Finian speaks.

“Well, don’t worry. It’s only been a few weeks so you haven’t missed much.” He then gestures toward Zila to introduce her, knowing well she is not one to introduce herself. “Zila Madran. Smartest person you’ll ever meet and _will_ beat your ass at frennet if you ever challenge her to a game. Trust me, I learned the hard way.”

Zila shyly tucks her curls behind one ear, drops her eyes down to her boots. The lights catch on an intricate golden earring dangling from her ear, making it shine. Aurora looks at her, lips parted.

“Wait, Madran?”

Zila lifts her head. Her reply is simple, but I can hear the perplexion laced within it. 

“Yes.”

Aurora grins. “I think we’re roommates.”

Zila blinks her big eyes at that, and Finian and I share an immediate look. In these mere first weeks, Zila has already been through two different roommates. Her fondness for the “stun” setting on her disruptor is to blame, treating those poor souls like lab experiments, I think without even realizing it. I suppose that is one thing we have in common: two strikes out of three. 

The thought of Aurora staying with her sends a wave of anger and worry over me. That one moment she will be awake in her dorm, and the next sprawled out on the floor and lulled to sleep at Zila’s feet. We have only just met, but I cannot help the fiery sense of unconditional protection that comes with feeling the way I do. 

_One she could never reciprocate._

_One I would never expect her to._

I silently curse my heart for the way it wrenches at the thought, focusing my attention on the issue at hand.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

She looks at me with mismatched eyes, then back to Zila. “I mean, unless you’re related to someone else that goes here, then yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

Zila shakes her head. “I, too, have been expecting a new roommate. It only makes sense if you were her.”

Finian puts a hand over his mouth to silence himself, panic clearly evident on his pale face.

Aurora, however, gently bounces on her feet in excitement. “Oh, brilliant! This is gonna be so fun. Could you show me where our dorm is?”

Zila simply nods, pocketing her uniglass and starting off in the direction in which we came from without any goodbyes. Aurora watches her for a puzzled second before turning to follow her. She gives us one last look over her shoulder.

“It was nice to meet you, Finian and…”

Our eyes meet.

“Kal.” I supply.

“Kal,” she echoes, thoughtfully. “Sorry again, for running into you.”

The sound of my name falling from her lips is the sweetest sound I have ever heard. 

Before I realize it, she is off with Zila.

“Now, I know Syldrathi don’t like to be touched, and all,” Finian begins when they are well out of sight. “But it _sure_ looked like you enjoyed that little stumble you took.”

My head snaps to him, my eyes narrowing. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He smirks coyly and gestures to my ears. “You’re blushing like crazy, Pixieboy.”

I quickly place my fingertips to the back of one ear to feel my flesh burning. Flustered, I rub at it and continue walking to class. “I am _not_ blushing and you have _no_ idea what you are talking about,” I defensively hiss behind my shoulder to Finian, who is still choosing to follow me.

“ _Whatever you saaay,_ ” he sings off-key, completely unfazed by my tone. “Oh, by the way, that was the new girl.”

“Really?” I retort. “I had absolutely no idea.”

He stares at me with an odd look on his face, mouth agape. “Was that… sarcasm I just heard?”

I don’t respond. He dramatically places a hand to his chest.

“I’m so proud.”

***

I lay awake in my bed later that evening, on my side of the dorm. Finian’s side is empty of him. The lights are switched off, only the faint, cool glow of the endless constellations swirling just outside of our space station illuminating the room through the viewport. A wild tempest of rapid thoughts relentlessly twists the dagger already buried in my chest. My eyes are glued to the ceiling, feeling as if I am burning a hole through it with my stare. My breath is shallow, tight in my throat as I attempt to will the battling voices in my head still.

_Aurora…_

_Stop._

_Aurora…_

_You cannot bring her into this. Into something so deep, something she does not and will never understand. Place her under an obligation she does not deserve to be placed under. It is not fair to her. It is not her burden to carry._

_Aurora…_

_She will_ never _be your be’shmai._

I abruptly sit up at that, the longing in me too much to bear. I swing my legs off the edge of my bed and stand up, walking over to look out of the viewport.

I wish I were a star. 

Then, I would not know heartache. I would not know loss. I would not know grief. Or fury. Or joy.

I would know nothing.

I rest my palms against the wall and shake my head at the foolish thought. 

I know mother would have told me that feeling is a part of living. That feeling gives you purpose. That it is not my fault for feeling the way I do. But I wish she were here, stroking my hair, telling me what to do now. I look at the sky, at the merciless black Void holding her.

“I miss you, mother.” I whisper.

And then I realize that I cannot even look at the stars without comparing their beauty to Aurora’s.

With an exasperated sigh I throw myself back onto my bed, stomach-down. Braids undone, my hair fans out in a curtain of silver across my pillow. I bury my face deep into it and let out a groan. I know I am being childish and undignified, but nobody else is here.

I hear the room door beep and slide open, and I freeze in place, one leg dangling off of the bed and dragging on the floor like a heathen. The familiar whisper of an exosuit enters the room before the door slides shut again.

“Damn, Kal, knocked out at,” A beat, as Finian presumably checks the time on his uniglass. “Seven o’clock? Take it easy, party boy.”

I turn my head on its side so my voice is not muffled by the pillow, push my hair back out of my eyes. “I am not sleeping,” I mutter.

“Good, ‘cause it’d be really lame if you were,” he says, setting his bag down on the floor. “So, good news. I visited Zila and Aurora’s dorm and, turns out, they’re getting along famously. No disruptor in sight, thank the Maker.”

A sliver of tension releases from my muscles at that. That Aurora is safe and well and settling in with ease. That quiet Zila has a friend.

_You are becoming soft and spineless. Why do you care for these people?_

I squeeze my eyes shut, try to burn away the voice of the Enemy Within. Beg for it to leave me alone. But no matter what I do or where I go, I fear it will always find its way back to me, like a claw made of inky smoke wrapped around my neck in an eternal grasp.

“Very well.” is all I say.

Out of the corner of my vision, I see Finian nod. But his gaze does not leave me. I turn on my side to face him. The boy has no irises, no pupils, and the room is dark; but I know his eyes are shamelessly snaking across my bare arms, exposed by the plain black tank I am wearing. I raise a brow.

“Was there something you needed, Finian?”

He blinks, shakes his head. “Uh, nope. Not at all.”

He retires to his side of the room, boots ringing for a moment when he walks across the strip of metal separating our portions in half. When he is on the other side, he offers me a lazy salute and hits a glowing green button on the wall.

From the metal line cutting across the middle of our dorm, a thick sheet of protective glass hisses upwards to connect to the metal on the ceiling. Once the transparent, soundproof shield firmly clicks into place, separating us completely, I see it slowly begin to happen.

Finian kicks off of the floor and glides upward in the zero gravity he requires to rest in every night. Suspended in midair, his hair floats around him in pointed spikes, his eyes close in bliss, and the strain of gravity on his body seemingly disperses. He peels off his Legion jacket and removes his boots, letting them float away as he reaches for his uniglass dancing above his head. For the next few hours, it casts a bright blue glow on his face as he taps away on it, curled into a ball.

My night is not as blissful.

I toss and turn restlessly in bed, searching for even a fragment of rhyme or reason for the situation I am in.

I cannot control the way I feel for Aurora O’Malley. But I can control what I do about it.

Because her own comfort, her own happiness, her own decisions are what matter above all else. I wish for her to choose her story, even if I am not in a single chapter. So I will push this down as far as it can possibly go, never allow it to see the light of day.

Even if my heart yearns for the rest of my life.


	2. rose-colored boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for such a long wait, i promise it wasn't on purpose! life's been crazy and we all know how the world is right now, but hopefully this chapter was worth the wait. enjoy! :)
> 
> (also quick disclaimer: i know almost nothing about hand-to-hand combat, so i just used vague terms and made it up as i went lmao. hope it's sort of believable?)

**Auri**

This is _nothing_ like my high school back on Earth. 

Or rather, high _schools,_ since mom and dad’s employers at Ad Astra thought it was funny to toss them, Callie and me all across the continent like puppets. I could never get too comfortable in one place, make super close friends or build a treehouse in the backyard or get a pet, because next thing I knew, I was stuffing my things into a moving box again. Which is why I busted my butt to earn the once-in-a-lifetime scholarship to Aurora Academy, studied and trained day and night to prove I was worth a place among the rest of the Cadets. So I could stay in one place for a while. Make my own rules. Carve my own path. And hey, I guess it worked.

_But son of a biscuit, this place is huge._

I mean, I expected it to be sizable, being that it’s a literal space station in, well, _space._ But ever since I left my dorm this morning, a little earlier so I have time to get better acquainted with the place I’ll be calling home for the next four years, I’ve been completely lost; _and coming from a girl who studied cartography, that’s saying a lot._ I swear I’ve passed by at least three different libraries, all huge, multi-storied and sleek, holding seemingly every book in the galaxy. Rows of nondescript lecture room doors line most of the halls, the numbers on the metal plaques beside them accelerating as I pass by. Room 310, room 311, room 312. The places I _need_ to find, like the dining hall and combat gyms, are nowhere to be seen. I sigh and squint at the interactive map of the Academy I have pulled up on my uniglass, using my fingers to zoom in to the red dot that represents where I currently am. 

When suddenly, like the Maker decided to send down an angel from above, I hear a voice call out behind me.

“Hey, ‘scuse me!”

It’s confident and smooth, and I turn around to find its owner walking towards me. A girl my age, with bright blue eyes and a flaming red bob cut bouncing around her face. It’s the type of face you’d see on the cover of a magazine or something, the same bold red color of her hair painted on her lips, which are pulled into a dazzling smile. And then I realize she’s not alone, but accompanied by two other Legionnaires. To her left strides a blonde boy that, I immediately note, shares her same brilliant eyes and supermodel height. To her right is a shorter brunette girl, with an undercut gelled upwards to reach the stars and a do-not-mess-with-me look on her face. They’re all Terran and all gorgeous, even in the unflattering blue-gray color of the Legion uniform; and, honestly, a little intimidating. 

_Be cool, Auri._

“You’re Aurora, right?” the red-haired girl asks once the three of them catch up to me, lips still in a smile.

I blink, then nod. “That’s me.” I have to tilt my head up a little because of her height, and my lack thereof.

Her grin grows bigger, showcasing pearly white teeth, and she taps a manicured finger on the collar of her uniform. “I’m Scarlett, a Face, as you can tell by this _hideous_ yellow.”

I chuckle, her attempt at making an ice-breaking joke slowly putting me at ease. “It looks good on you, though,” I say.

She looks genuinely flattered, placing a hand to her chest. “Well, thank you. And can I just say, fabulous hair. Love the streak.”

I smile at that, run my fingers through my bangs. Scarlett turns to the girl beside her. “This is Cat, my bestie since we were five,” she begins. Cat just offers me a laid-back nod, dark eyes dusted with dark makeup, every inch of both of her ears pierced. I learned about all the streams in the Legion, so I know her uniform is trimmed with the pure white that all Aces wear. The collar is unzipped, revealing an intricate tattoo climbing up her neck. _That must’ve hurt._ I nod in return.

“And Tyler, my brother since the womb,” Scarlett continues, gesturing to the boy. “We’re twins, but I’m older.”

“By _three minutes,_ ” Tyler sighs.

“Ignore him,” she says.

But it’s hard to ignore such a fine specimen, especially when he looks at me and flashes a perfect smile and _Holy Maker, are those dimples? Those are definitely dimples._ The twin thing makes a whole lot of sense. His uniform is trimmed with a blue almost as deep as his eyes, meaning he’s an Alpha. “It’s nice to meet you, Aurora,” he says. “Hope you’re liking it here so far.”

“Thanks, I am,” I say, my voice coming out quieter than I expected it to. I’m not sure if I’m imagining it or not, but from the corner of my vision I swear I see Cat roll her eyes. Before I can question it, though, Scarlett starts down the hall and gestures for me to join her. So I do, walking alongside her as Tyler and Cat follow a few steps behind, sparking up a conversation of their own.

“Like I said, I’m a Face,” Scarlett explains, tossing her hair behind her shoulder. “And Faces are the ones who help new Legionnaires assimilate to life at the Academy. So, I was put in charge of showing you the ropes.”

I practically sigh in relief at those words, shut my eyes. “Holy cake, you’re a Makersend,” I breathe out a laugh. “I would like that, please.”

She smiles, and wastes no time in producing a thin, palm-sized white box from her uniform pocket. “First thing’s first, a little welcome gift.”

I stare at the box for a moment, at her, my lips parting. “Oh, you really didn’t have to get me anythi--”

“Relaaax,” she purrs, shoving the box into my hands. “It’s not actually _from_ me, it’s from the Academy. But I wanted to be the one to give it to you. Open, open!” she squeals.

I smile. Though it’s not from her, the gesture is still sweet. I look down to the box, chew at my bottom lip in excitement and lift the lid off. I gasp. 

Resting inside in a snug compartment is a sleek, transparent slab of glass. But it’s not just _any_ slab of glass.

“A brand new, Legion-issued uniglass.” Scarlett says.

“I--this--” I sputter, my eyes wide as I take in its beauty. “This is the newest model. I wanted it for my birthday but it was _impossible_ to get on Earth.”

“And now it’s all yours.” she grins.

I look up at her, my voice full of earnest. “Thank you, Scarlett.”

She shrugs. “No problem. It’s totally easy to transfer the data from your old uni to this one, when you get the time. And hey,” She lowers her head and pulls out her own uni, the screen glowing to life. “Let me text you right now so you have my number when you open it.” 

She gently taps her uni against my new one, and a number shows up on her screen with the words **CREATE NEW CONTACT?** hovering below it. The Academy must’ve already set up the basics for me. Scarlett clicks **YES** , then types a quick message before hitting send and slipping the device back into her pocket.

“First period starts in half an hour,” She lifts one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “What say we do a mini tour for now, just so you know where all your classes are?”

I nod in agreement, and she looks over her shoulder behind us. “Guys, I’m gonna show her around. I’ll catch you later, ‘kay?” She lifts two fingers up to her eyes, then directs it towards them. “Be good.”

I exchange goodbyes with Cat and Captain Hotness--er, I mean, _Tyler_ \--and follow Scarlett as she familiarizes me with the halls of Aurora Academy (and before you ask, yes, it’s weird going to a place with the same name as me). We find the dining hall, the lecture rooms where my core classes like language and math will be taught, and everything else that’s listed on my schedule. We pass the time talking and exchanging stories; about which instructors are cool and which to avoid, about her _impressive_ résumé of ex-boyfriends she’s racked up so far at the Academy, and about how she thinks it’s badass that I chose the Tank stream.

“No fighting for me, thank you very much,” she declares, checking out the immaculate red polish on her nails. “I go to shore leave on Cohen IV to get these babies done and I will _not_ ruin them.”

So far, this girl’s been the closest thing to a friend I could’ve had back home. There’s a warmth, almost maternalness to her that I admire, and I can’t help but get a little sad as we turn the hall and reach the last class I needed to find: hand-to-hand combat.

“Aaand here we are, your first period,” she waves to the gym. From the clear glass of its walls, I can see it’s _huge_ on the inside. Wood floors shine underneath bright, circular lights fixed to the ceiling, and the walls are made entirely of equally shiny mirrors. From the ceiling hangs a red banner, the same deep shade of red that represents the Tank stream, with three words on it scribed boldly in black: **DISCIPLINE, RESILIENCE, STRENGTH.** Scarlett checks the time on her uni. “Perfect timing, the first bell rings in five minutes. Word of advice, though? Take an extra lap around the hall so you’re fashionably late and not the first person who shows up.”

I chuckle. “I will. Thanks again, Scarlett, really. You were a huge help.”

I realize her eyes aren’t on me anymore, but rather behind me. Before I can turn around to follow her line of vision, she speaks.

“Okay, don’t look now but one of my exes just turned the hall and I’m _pretty_ sure he’s looking at me and our breakup was _pretty_ ugly, so I’m gonna haul ass to class,” She shoots me a wink. “But remember, if you ever need anything, I’m your girl.”

All I can offer Scarlett is a quick, understanding nod before she turns on her heels and sashays away. Slipping the uniglass box into my uniform pocket with a small smile, I take her advice and circle the hall one more time. And, sure enough, I pass by an Ace boy who looks like he’s been listening to one too many sad love songs every night before bed.

***

Miss de Virel is about every caricature of a combat instructor combined and brought to life.

She’s Betraskan, close to six feet tall, and her tight t-shirt with the Aurora Legion symbol printed on it exposes muscles that would intimidate a Chellerian. Her white hair is pulled back in a harsh bun, revealing shaved-off sides.

I’d assume you were tired of having teeth if you ever threatened her, is what I’m trying to say.

She’s made the whole class stand silently in a straight line, shoulder to shoulder. There’s about twenty of us Tanks, male and female and anyone in between or otherwise, and judging by how wordlessly everybody got in line, I’m guessing Madam Business makes them do this every day. She slowly walks the length of the line with her hands clasped behind her back, narrowed black eyes sizing us up. She stops in front of me and stares.

“Are you new?”

Though my eyes are locked on her, I can feel the pressure of twenty more stares around me. But I’m used to this. Being new. So I nod and muster up a firm voice.

“Yes, ma’am.”

I try not to show my discomfort as she looks me up and down, before pulling out a unipad seemingly out of thin air and scrolling down the class roster.

“Name?” she asks.

“Aurora O’Malley.” I say.

“O’Malley,” she repeats gruffly, tapping away on the screen for a long moment. Suddenly, her face twists into contempt, and I brace myself. But instead of looking up at me, she looks up to scan the rest of the group.

“We’re missing someone.” she announces, clearly Over It.

We all look at each other then. I feel like I can hear a couple boys quietly snickering down the line. But just as the room slowly begins to slip out of our instructor’s hands and dissolve into chattering chaos, the gym door slides open and my head flicks to the arriving figure.

And I see it’s him. The Syldrathi boy I ran into and accidentally plowed to the ground yesterday. _What’s his name, again? Oh, that’s right._

_Kal._

I know enough about Syldrathi to know that they’re always extremely composed, and though he’s no exception, he looks a bit disheveled and out of breath, like he just ran the length of the entire Academy to get here. But besides that…

_Mothercustard, he’s hot._

No, scratch that. Hot’s not really the right word. Beautiful is more like it. Beautiful in a way that’s almost unsettling. Beautiful in a way I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.

_You get the jist._

“Legionnaire Gilwraeth,” Miss de Virel says, her voice booming throughout the large room, hard as steel. “You’re late. Again.”

I watch along with everyone else as he enters the room, running a hand through his braided silver hair. Also, like all of his people, he’s _ridiculously_ tall.

“I apologize,” he says, his voice deep and smooth and accented, lacking any ripples of uncertainty. “I can assure you it will not happen again.”

“You can _assure me?_ ” she parrots, challenging his fearless tone as she places a hand on her hip. “Assure me by standing in line with your fellow Cadets who arrived on time. Once you enter this room, excuses don’t exist, so don’t bother telling me yours. This is your final warning, is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.” he nods firmly, turning to get in line. As he does, he sees me from across the room, and that violet gaze sticks for a few seconds longer than it probably should. Most likely from the memory of yesterday’s little incident, so I offer him a small smile. But the lines of his face become even harder, even colder, and he tears his eyes away to look at the floor instead as he settles in between two Legionnaires. My smile fades.

_Weird._

After that, Miss de Virel wastes no time in getting to work. She loudly claps her pale hands together. “We’ll start off today by dividing you all into pairs of two and sending you off into separate training rooms. Light combat practice, just to get your blood flowing,” She checks her watch. “We’ll do that for about fifteen minutes. _I_ will be assigning partners.”

That’s met with a small chorus of groans, but I silently listen as our instructor pairs us up. There’s only a few of us left when she calls on me.

“New girl,” she points. “I’ll put you with…”

Her gaze lands on the other end of the room.

“Mister tardy.”

I gulp, look at Kal again. But he doesn’t bother looking at me, his eyes straight ahead.

_Okay, seriously, what’s his problem?_

“That leaves Tobias and Will,” Madam Business gestures to two more boys, one with brown hair and one with blonde hair, both muscular. “Alright, everybody get changed and get started.”

We all shuffle around to our respective partners, and I see a flash of silver braids before my view gets obstructed by somebody else. Shaggy brown hair, bright green eyes and a devilish smile. Tobias.

“Wish de Virel paired us up,” he says to me, in a way that he probably _genuinely_ thinks is attractive. “Tobias Smith. All this talk of the new girl and they forgot to mention her beauty.”

I’m stunned for a few seconds, disgusted by his gall, before I narrow my eyes. “Funny, they never mentioned yours either.” I retort.

He just laughs and places a hand to his chest. “Ouch,” Then he slowly walks backwards towards the locker rooms. “I’ll see you around.”

I don’t wait until he turns around before I roll my eyes. 

***

 _Mister tardy_ hasn’t said a thing since the door of our training room hissed closed a couple minutes ago. It looks like the main gym, wooden floors and bright lights and mirrored walls, just smaller and square-shaped. The tank top I’ve changed into is black, with the Tank insignia emblazoned on it in red. His is the exact same.

I study him in the mirrors as I stretch. He’s behind me, back turned to me, kneeling down to tie his black Legion-provided athletic shoes. Tan, muscular arms flex underneath the lights, and I immediately tear my eyes away in embarrassment once I realize I was counting the veins that trail up his wrists. After a few more stretches, I turn around.

He’s staring at me. At my face, and the loose lock of white falling in front of it. Burning flecks of violet and indigo in his irises.

_And, again, he looks away immediately._

“I was born with it.” I say.

He blinks. “What?”

“My eye and my hair. That’s what you’re looking at, right? It’s natural discoloration.”

He looks a little speechless, lips slightly parted. “I… I was not looking at that.”

“Then what were you looking at?”

He redirects his gaze down to the training mat underneath us. “Nothing.”

I bite down on my response, feeling a little infuriated by this pointy-eared dude’s lack of communication. Sure, he’s not much of a talker, that much I picked up on yesterday; but he wasn’t being a jackass like today. I breathe deep and meet him where he now stands at the middle of the mat, look up at him with conviction in my eyes as if he’s not over a foot taller than me. Try to ignore his perfect alien face tilted down to me. I huff the white strands out of my own face.

“Ready?” I ask.

We soon find ourselves circling each other, slowly, deliberately, palms raised and feet apart. The energy between us is thick and charged, both of us waiting to see who strikes first. I’m putting in every ounce of effort to keep myself centered, to not psych myself out, remembering all the strenuous learning and training I’ve been through to be here today. But it’s hard to, with his intense gaze and--

“May I give you some advice?” he says, softly.

I blink. “Sure?”

“I can tell you are holding in too much air in your lungs,” he tells me. “That will make it very difficult to fully rotate your torso when you strike.”

I realize just how much I’ve been holding my breath. I exhale, flustered. “Duh. You’re not the only one between the two of us who’s had prior training, you know.”

“I am aware, but I am the only one between the two of us who has trained in the Aen Suun.”

My eyes narrow. “The Aen Suun?”

“The Wave Way. It is a highly complex form of martial arts from my people,” he explains, speaking about it in a low, reverent tone. As he does, I find myself studying the small tattoo on his forehead a bit closer. Three crossed blades. An obvious sign of a warrior.

_Warbreed._

_That’s his Syldrathi cabal._

“Do not worry, though,” he continues. “I will go easy on you.”

Both of my eyebrows shoot up at the exact moment I realize _I’ve had enough of this jackass._

“Easy on me?” I echo, ever-so-sweetly. “Why’s that, Legolas?”

He tilts his head at that. “Who is--”

I move, quick and calculated, at the precise moment his guard is lowered. My palm collides with his shoulder like lightning, I kick his leg out from under him, and I tackle him down onto the mat. He grunts, eyes wide as I put my forearm on his neck, not enough to suffocate him or anything, but enough to let him know it’s there.

 _Son of a biscuit, obscure nerd references really_ do _come in handy sometimes._

I feel his breathing quicken underneath me. And I swear, beyond his bewilderment, I can see something like a pleasantly surprised grin is almost daring to overtake his lips. I lean down an inch closer.

“Are we always just gonna find ourselves in this position?”

***

My body feels like one big ball of _ache_ as I trudge down the neverending corridors of dorms, stifling a yawn. The days at Aurora Academy end much later than regular school days on Earth. It makes sense, being that we're the galaxy's most elite peacekeeping force. But from Miss de Virel’s arduous lesson this morning to cramming my brain with numbers and terms (both Terran and alien), all I want is to be curled up in bed with a pile of junk food and my stuffed toy squirrel, watching my favorite sims.

That is, after I’ve finished all the homework I’ve been assigned.

I push the negative thoughts away, remind myself of how lucky I am to be here, how _badly_ I wanted this. Remind myself that no matter how hard it gets, I don’t tell mom or dad, or even Callie. _That’s one of my faults, my stubborn streak._

I reach my dorm with a sigh of relief, pressing the pad of my thumb over the glowing panel beside the door. The light turns from red to green, and the door soundlessly slides open to reveal a very focused-looking Zila sitting at her desk. She hasn’t bothered to change out of her Legion uniform yet, but her long, curling hair is pulled away from her face in a loose braid.

“Hey, Z,” I say as I step inside, offering her a tired smile.

She doesn’t look up from the ridiculously thick textbook cracked open in front of her, too busy seemingly absorbing all the information on the page like a sponge. “Hello,” she replies simply.

I tug my bag off my shoulder, swing it over to land on the top bunk bed, which is where I sleep. Not that I had much of a choice in the matter. Zila told me, “I will be sleeping on the bottom bunk,” last night, and that was that.

_I guess I’ll get used to her with time._

I climb up the ladder onto my bed and prop up a pillow to rest against the wall, exhaling for the first time all day, not bothering to kick my boots off just yet. I turn to Zila with a small smirk. “Aren’t you gonna ask me how my first day was?”

She looks up at that, blankly stares at me with big brown eyes, then blinks. “How was your first day?”

I shrug. “Pretty decent, actually. Well, excluding Lord Snooty McSnootface from my combat class, of course,” I huff.

“I’m sorry?”

“Your friend Finian’s roommate.”

She’s silent for a moment. “I concur that Legionnaire Gilwraeth tends to be… serious.”

I snort. “That’s definitely one way to put it. So, how was _your_ day?” I venture.

She flips to the next page of the monster textbook. “Uneventful.”

I nod slowly. _Okay. Good talk._

And that’s when I feel it, in my uniform pocket. The gift Scarlett gave me this morning. With a small rush of excitement, I pull out the white box and lift the lid, marveling at my new uniglass. It practically sparkles underneath the dorm lights as I carefully pick it up. Just like that, it comes to life with a million glowing displays and a single command:

**NAME YOUR UNIGLASS**

I know it’s lame, but this feature wasn’t in the older models, so I chew at my bottom lip and rack my brain for a worthy name. After a minute, I type:

**MAGELLAN**

Satisfied, I hit **OK.** When Scarlett said it was easy to transfer the data from my old uni, she wasn’t kidding; after a minute, all my apps are back, and my photos with my friends and family, and the text she sent me this morning:

**UR DESIGNATED AND TOTALLY FAB FACE AT UR SERVICE ;)**

I grin and send her a quick message back. Later, I change out of my uniform and into a pair of my own pajamas that still smell like home. Staring up at the ceiling, I think about video calling mom, dad and Callie tomorrow. I think about the new friendships I’m forging. I think about the fact that I’m going to be living on a space station for the next four years, training for my future.

I am absolutely, positively, one hundred percent _not_ thinking about Kal Gilwraeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments are v appreciated! i hope to post the next chapter sooner this time *fingers crossed*


	3. solar systems away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember last chapter when i said i hoped to post chapter 3 sooner? yyyeah clearly that wasn't the case... sorry bout that. these chapters are quite long though so hopefully that makes up for the wait in getting each one out. but a new one is finally here so enjoy! kudos and comments are super appreciated :)))

**Kal**

“Pixieboy, you alive?”

My attention is torn away from the stars outside. I blink, remembering where I am. The dining hall, with its tall, clear walls and dome-shaped ceiling. With the rich smell of foods imported from Terra, Trask, and Syldra. With the sound of hundreds of Legionnaires in excessively loud, overlapping conversations.

And with Finian, who is currently waving a hand in front of my face.

“What?” I say, looking between him and Zila. It is just the three of us at this table. I was perfectly well with sitting by myself in the dining hall during the beginning of the year. There is no point in talking mindlessly with other people while you eat. But, of course, that was yet another thing Finian had to change.

“I was _saying,_ is that all you’re having?” he asks, gesturing to the bottle of water in my hand. I lean back in my chair and take another sip in one swift motion.

“Yes.”

“Huh,” he huffs and turns to Zila, placing a hand to his chest as if offended. “Nobody told _me_ it was galactic _Pass Out In The Middle of Fifth Period_ day.”

She nods and looks at me. “I concur with Finian. It would be in your best interest if you ate something.”

“I am not hungry.” is all I say, my mind solar systems away as I replay the events of this morning.

***

_We find ourselves circling each other in the enclosed training room once more. Her gaze is like a needle as it follows me. She moves with meaning, purpose, determination. I admit I was wary when Miss de Virel paired us up for the first time yesterday. But, small and human she may be, the more I train with Aurora O’Malley, the more she is beginning to show herself as an opponent who should be feared._

_Her voice catches me off guard, though I do not show it._

_“Why does it feel like you hate me?”_

_The words sizzle in the air between us and burn my skin. There are many things I feel for her, but_ hate… _there is not a single drop of it. I do not wish her to feel this way. I do not wish it to be like this. But I do not know how else to be, how else to act around her without making an utter fool of myself. It is like walking a desert of cut glass. The silence lasts an eon before I bring myself to speak._

_“I do not hate you.”_

_She huffs a dry laugh and shakes her head incredulously, clearly unconvinced by my answer. “You sure have a funny way of showing it.” A beat passes. I slowly step to the right and she mirrors the action as quick as light, palms raised just as mine are, prepared to strike at any moment. “Is this about the whole_ me-accidentally-pummeling-you-to-the-ground-in-the-hallway _thing?” she asks, doing those air quotes with her fingers that Terrans are so fond of doing. “Because if it is, I’m--”_

_“No,” I say, surprised that she is still thinking about that encounter. Surprised that she believes such a small thing could be the reason for all of this. I feel a twinge of guilt in my chest. I feel the pace at which we are circling each other slightly accelerating. “I can assure you it is not about that. I am separating training from friendship, that is all.”_

_Her eyes narrow at that, and I sense her palm strike a half of a second before it happens. Because she may be quick._

_But so am I._

***

Thankfully, Finian does not press the matter of what I am eating any further, simply shrugging and peeling off the top of a plastic container with a strange jelly-like substance inside. “Suit yourself,” he says, shoving a spoonful of it into his mouth. Zila resumes scrolling through her uniglass, taking a bite out of a circular brown food. It is similar to Terran bread, although much harder, and reminds me a fraction of a delicacy from my homeworld. I believe it is called a… cookie?

_Terrans are not especially creative when it comes to naming food._

My thoughts are once again interrupted by Finian’s voice.

“Aurora, hey!”

Suddenly, all of me is alert at the sound of her name. My spine straightens, and I clutch the bottle in my hand tighter. She is at our table then, a tray of food balanced on one hand and a large textbook in the other, standing in front of a backdrop of a thousand swirling stars. My eyes meet her mismatched ones for the briefest of seconds and my heart stutters, before she pulls them away to settle on Finian and Zila instead.

“Hey, Fin. Z,” she says with a smile.

She does not say my name, and I know why.

***

_Her palm shoots forward to collide with my shoulder, much like yesterday, but this time I seize her wrist before it may happen. I keep my grip firm while acutely making sure not to cause any real pain. She immediately brings forth her other arm, and I do the exact same to it with my free hand. Holding both of her wrists together in a cross, I walk her backwards until her spine meets the mirrored wall behind her and she presses up against it with a faint gasp. Our faces separated by mere inches, our breaths heavy. Involuntarily, my eyes briefly drop to her lips, before I pull them back up again. She simply blinks at me._

_We do nothing for a long moment, save for this._

_And then her head tilts to the side a fraction, and she raises one eyebrow._

_“Easy on the theatrics, Legolas.”_

_There is that strange name again. I do not know whether it is a compliment or an insult, but judging by the scowl on her lips, I am guessing it is the latter._

_“Do you mind telling me who, or what, a Legolas is?” I ask, my voice quiet due to how close we are._

_She matches my volume, her voice gentle but her words ice._

_“Maybe classic literature could be the cure to your boneheadedness.”_

***

Aurora leans across our table and slides the textbook over to Zila. “You forgot this bad boy in our room this morning. Figured you’d need it.”

A rare hint of a smile spreads across Zila’s lips as she takes the book. “I… thought I misplaced it somewhere. Thank you.”

“No prob,” Aurora nods, rocking back on her heels. Just as Finian opens his mouth, presumably to invite her to join us, another voice rings out a few tables away. Crisp, confident.

“Aurora, over here!”

She whips her head around, and the rest of us follow her line of vision to find a Terran girl motioning her over. She has vibrant red hair cut into a strange shape that swings around her face, and eyes of the brightest blue. With her sits a dark-haired girl wearing an unimpressed look on her face, and a light-haired boy. The boy is the only one I recognize among the three of them. He is Tyler Jones, the top cadet of Aurora Academy and, admittedly, the tallest Terran I have seen here. I do not pay much attention nor am I impressed by the popularity rankings of Aurora Legionnaires, but everybody knows of him and his achievements. And as my eyes flit back and forth between him and the girl with red hair, I make the connection based on their shared features that they must be siblings.

My mind briefly goes to my own sister then, if I may even call her that anymore. _What cruel acts Saedii must be committing these days…_

The Enemy Within flares for a moment, grasping for her and my father and everything I left behind on Syldra to be the man I know I can be. I push it down instinctively.

Aurora turns back to us, and with a hesitant, apologetic look to Finian and Zila, clutches the tray in her hands and wordlessly leaves to join the other table instead. She ignores me completely. I stare down at my lap, my jaw closed tight.

“Oh, don’t be upset she didn’t sit with us, loverboy,” Finian coos. My head snaps up at the ridiculous name and what could have prompted it, but the Betraskan’s eyes are not on me. He sits with his chin resting on his fist, sighing wistfully as he gazes at the other table. “Because no offense to you guys and the special bond we’ve formed as the dregs of the Academy, or anything, but if _either_ of the delicious Jones twins asked me to sit with them, I’d haul ass faster than you can say creshcake.”

“Creshcake.” Zila says.

“I am not upset,” I reply, downing the rest of my drink. “Nor do I care.”

Without another word, I stand up from the table, throw my bottle into the nearest disposal bin and walk out of the dining hall.

***

**Auri**

I try not to notice him leaving the dining hall _way_ before the bell is supposed to ring. But I can't help it. I watch his tall frame stalk off between the crowded tables and disappear through the large doors. I watch as Zila and Finian exchange a glance with each other. And I can’t help but wonder if all of it was somehow because of me, _again._ A big part of me really did want to sit with them--not that Scarlett, Tyler and Cat aren’t interesting; they’re some of the coolest people I've ever met that I kind of feel like a fish out of water at their table.

But another big part of me did _not_ want to sit with _him._

_Mister tardy. Mister Middle-Earth. Mister anger management issues._

“He’s insufferable, Cat, I’m telling you,” Tyler’s voice tears through my train of thought.

“Who is?” I ask.

He looks at me then, those blue eyes sending me into momentary cardiac arrest. For the record, _yes,_ I think he’s cute, like probably everyone else at the Academy does. But I’m also 99.9% sure that he and Cat have some weird unrequited-love-type-thing going on that I’d much rather just let them work out.

_I wonder if they know how terrible they are at hiding it._

“My roommate, Björkman,” Tyler explains, running a hand through his hair. “I swear the guy wouldn’t know cleanliness if it smacked him across the face.”

Scarlett smirks and leans forward. “For once, bee-bro’s not being dramatic. Yesterday I walked into their dorm and stepped right into an old bowl of cereal that Björkman left on the floor,” She pretends to wipe a tear from her eye. “Ruined my brand new vinyl boots.”

Cat gasps dramatically and places a hand to her chest. “A _travesty._ ”

“Right?” Scarlett sighs.

“Honestly, that’s kind of exactly something I’d expect from someone named Björkman,” I admit.

“I told myself I wouldn’t, but I might just tell Adams,” Tyler says. “Maybe he could hook me up with a new roommate or something.”

I blink. “Wait a minute, Adams as in _Admiral_ Adams?”

He nods, which leads me to a follow-up question.

“Woah, so you can just… ask him things like that? Are you guys related or something?”

Something washes over Tyler’s face then, but he still puts on a smile, albeit a weak one. “Yeah, you could say that. He took me and Scar in when we were little. After our dad… passed.”

I can tell by his voice that this is far from the first time he’s had to tell someone that. And my face falls at the fact that he just had to do it again.

“I’m so sorry.” I say quietly.

His smile turns into a real one, dimples and all, and he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. Knowing Adams _does_ come with a lot of perks. One of them hopefully being switching out my sloppy roommate for one who cares about basic hygiene,”

“Oh, quit being such a baby, Ty,” Cat says. “What if this hypothetical new roommate turns out to be even _worse_ than Björkie?”

“First of all, _no one_ can be worse than Björkie,” Tyler argues. “And second of all, you really need to stop calling him that, because I feel like it’s making him think that you like him.”

Cat gags. “ _Gross!_ ”

Scarlett taps me on the shoulder then, and I turn to find her discreetly gesturing to a boy a few tables down from us.

“Nico Wells,” she whispers. “Ex-boyfriend #13. Pros? Could carry me. Cons? Loud chewer.”

I snort. “Loud chewer?”

“Yup. Mouth open and spit flying and everything. It was _disgusting_.”

“He and Björkie should be friends,” I suggest.

“They should, shouldn’t they?” Scarlett grins.

***

**Kal**

I cannot keep this inside anymore. It is _torture_. 

Am I an utter fool for opening up about my secret to inarguably the most loud-mouthed Cadet in the entire Legion? Most assuredly.

Am I doing it anyway? Yes.

I walk into our dorm and find him. Finian. He is resting horizontally on the small sofa lodged in the corner of the room, boots propped up onto the armrest, playing a game on his uniglass. I march up to him, place my hands on the back of the sofa so I am leaning over him, and stare daggers into his eyes.

“Finian, there is something I must confess, because I fear if I don't, it may very well consume me. But you must promise not to utter a word of it to a single soul, do you understand?”

Finian looks up at me with wide, surprised eyes, but after a moment, his eyelids begin to flutter. “I swear you said something _super_ similar in my dream a few nights ago, Kal,” he mutters.

I stand up straight. “What?”

“What?” he echoes immediately, black eyes blinking awake again.

“I am confused,” I say. “Do you already have knowledge of my secret about Aurora?”

He sits up attentively at that, swinging his legs over to sit normally. “Woah, woah, woah, Aurora? As in, new girl Aurora?” His mouth curls into a mischievous grin at the same moment I realize I have already compromised myself, and he comfortably settles back against the sofa, patting the space next to him. “Uh, _no_ , but this should be interesting. I’m all ears, Pixieboy. And I won’t “utter a word to a single living soul” or whatever the hells you just said.”

I internally curse myself for revealing her name out of panic, but there is no turning back now, and I am well aware that Finian will not be quiet until I tell him. I tentatively sit down, breathe deep, keeping my voice low although there is nobody in the room save for us.

“There is no easy way to say this,” I begin.

Finian snaps his fingers. “Wait, let me guess. You guys were caught doing the deed in the jet propulsion lab and that’s why it was closed off to all Cadets today.”

I silently glare at him for a long moment until he raises his hands in surrender.

“Sorry, continue.”

I can feel a lump in my throat growing. I swallow hard and force myself to speak anyway.

“Are you familiar with the Pull? Among Syldrathi?”

His face contorts in thought. “I’ve heard of it, yeah. It’s sorta like a bond between two of your people, right?”

“Correct,” I nod, admittedly impressed by his knowledge. “A lifelong bond.”

He whistles low. “Intense. And kinda sexy. You know, if you’re into the whole commitment thing.”

I ignore his last comment, placing all my strength into saying my next words. “Last week, when I first, quite literally, ran into Aurora…” 

I hope my eyes say what my lips cannot. And I see Finian’s own lips part in realization.

 _“...Oh.”_ he says.

“Yes, oh.”

A deafening silence settles in the room.

“But she’s…”

“Terran, I know,” I nod. “I do not understand it, either. I do not know if it has ever happened with anyone else.”

“So you _do_ like her, I knew it!” Finian exclaims, everything I have just said completely going over his head. “Zila owes me five creds.”

I scowl and motion for him to lower his voice. “Of course I like her, but that is not the problem, Finian.”

He shrugs. “Well what’s the problem?”

“It is as you said. A bond between two of _my_ people. Only _my_ people feel the Pull, for one another. Because she is human, she does not feel it back--nor would I ever expect her to.”

And finally, _finally,_ I see him begin to understand.

“So it’s like a one-sided Pull.”

I shut my eyes.

“Yes.”

He huffs out a breath of air. “Damn, that’s… rough, I’m not gonna lie. Are you going to tell her?”

“No,” I say almost immediately.

“But… don’t you think she should know, at some point?”

“I mean to say, yes, but,” I sigh, run a finger across my brow. “I am not planning to ever pursue her. It is entirely unfair to her to pull her into a thing so deep. Lifelong. And I was going to push this down, pretend it does not exist, but it is agony when I see her every single day. Talk to her. Train with her.” My voice crescendos at that, then grows quiet again. “Spirits of the Void, I just needed to tell somebody.”

Slowly, carefully, Finian places a hand on my shoulder. I slightly flinch at the touch, but do not push it away. And for once, his tone is utterly serious, sincere.

“No, I get it, Kal.”

I look at him. “You do?”

“Yeah. I mean, Maker’s bits I can't actually imagine how it _feels,_ but I get it. And it’s good of you, that you don’t want to force her just because you feel that way,” He hesitates a bit. “Does it… suck? You know, not exactly being able to choose who you fall in love with?”

“No,” I answer, shaking my head. “No. It is out of my control, yes. But this is a natural, elemental feeling to us. Aurora is gravity, and I am drawn to her as easy as breathing air into my lungs. Like a moon drawn to its planet. Like a planet drawn to its star. Her voice, her smile, everything about her is completely and utterly radiant in my eyes.”

Finian falls silent for a long moment.

“Yeah, you’ve got it real bad for her. But listen. I know she can't feel the Pull, but what if she just naturally started to like you back how humans do?”

I let out a bitter laugh that sounds closer to a bark. “Do not be ridiculous. I will not amuse such fantasies. Besides, I am almost certain she hates me.”

“Wait, what?” He sits up. “Why?”

“As I said, I am trying to push my feelings out of the equation entirely,” I sigh. “I suppose she mistook my distance for disdain.”

Finian gapes at me. “Kal, I mean this as a friend, you’re a real idiot sometimes.”

I frown. “What?”

He throws his hands up in the air. “ _Dude_ , just act normal around her. Not extra rude or anything in an attempt to keep her at arm’s length. Because I promise you, it won’t work, and will just make you look like a dick.”

My eyes travel to the floor in thought, absorbing his words. “I see.”

“Hey, they don’t call me the love whisperer for nothing.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “I do not believe anybody calls you that.”

He grins and stands up. “Just take it easy, Pixieboy. All you have to do is remember that she’s just another person, like you and me. I’ve got your back.”

I smile at the strange, surprisingly wise boy before me. And I nod.


End file.
